


Bad Habit

by DktrAgonizer



Category: Persona 4, The Darkness (Games)
Genre: Anal Sex, Biting, Blood Drinking, Bloodplay, Breathplay, Character Turned Into Vampire, M/M, Multiverse, Oral Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-14
Updated: 2016-05-14
Packaged: 2018-06-08 08:40:27
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,289
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6847492
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DktrAgonizer/pseuds/DktrAgonizer
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A sequel to Guilty Pleasure. Really just more of the same, with added everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Bad Habit

**Author's Note:**

> Yet again I manipulate the power of multiverse rp and the occasional undead-ening to write sin. This entire fic may or may not have been one big excuse for the biting thing. Judge away.

This isn't the first time they're doing this, and at this rate, it won't be their last. But it's different this time, it's different because he's dead - _undead -_ again, and that means things have changed.

The choking, for one. It's not doing anything for him. It's nothing but a painful pressure, hands squeezing in around his throat, but there's no rush of dizziness and no delightful burning in his lungs. His brain doesn’t need the oxygen. It's disappointing, and Johnny eventually waves him off with a grimace. Adachi lets his hands fall away with a sigh. “Well, this isn't any fun. Why don't we try something else?” His knee, pressed down hard on Johnny's crotch, draws away.

Johnny starts breathing again, if only because it's a habit. “We could try it on you,” he says, running a hand across his throat. There's still a ghostly feeling of constriction, of Adachi's hands on him, and he wants it gone as badly as he wants it to stay.

Adachi quirks one eyebrow and an amused smile crosses his face. “You expect me to believe frail, trembling, spineless _you_ could work up enough passion to make it worthwhile? Why, you'd be whimpering apologies at the first noise I make.”

Ugh, there he goes again. He's so damn smug and condescending, and it's not in any way endearing. But when Johnny's other partners are busy, or when there's that itch none of them can quite scratch… Well. At least everything else about this is good for _that_. “I can be assertive enough,” Johnny replies, letting his fingers curl in and out, imagining wrapping them - shaking and all - around Adachi's neck. The man gives him a dubious look and it's all Johnny can do not to groan. “I can! I mean, last time-”

“Last time,” Adachi cuts in smoothly, “you had to be goaded into it.” There's a pause as he looks Johnny over, a thoughtful look on his face. “But you did have a surprise or two up your sleeve. Maybe you can learn after all.”

Johnny isn't sure if he actually wants to do this or not. He'd still rather be the willing participant to somebody else’s lead, but… There had been that heady rush last time, that surge of dominance and power that had felt so _right_ in the moment. And he'd bitten Adachi, but it hadn't been enough; he'd wanted to really bite down, sink ghostly fangs into his neck. His fangs aren't ghostly this time.

In the pause, Adachi smirks and gets to his feet. “Well,” he sighs, making a show of dusting off his knees, “if you don't feel up to entertaining me…”

Johnny swallows the nerves buzzing up in him and stands up. He's taller than Adachi, and quietly he's happy for the advantage, small as it is. He doesn’t have many of them. “Hold on.” Adachi waits, looking up at him with his head tilted slightly back and his eyebrows raised. “If this doesn't work, we'll. We can try something else.”

His hands settle gently around Adachi's neck, thumbs resting against the hollow of his throat. Adachi flinches back at the touch. “You’re cold,” he complains, but he doesn't attempt to move away.

Johnny knows his heart would be racing if it were beating at all. Instead, he can just feel the nerves, the shame, the _guilt_ all bubbling in him. But it's easier to think these days, if only by just a little - and he's feeling surprisingly calm, all things considered. “So warm me up,” he replies in a steady voice.

Adachi opens his mouth to say something, and that's when Johnny squeezes. The breath leaves him in a huff and his eyes widen for the briefest of moments. Johnny's never been on the giving end of this before, but it's not too difficult to puzzle out; squeeze in, but not _too_ hard, hold it until he can see the dizziness creeping in, release for Adachi to draw in another breath, and repeat. He knows the pattern well enough from being on the other end.

Adachi's hands move to his waist, fingers slipping into the band of his jeans to dig hard into Johnny's hips. Johnny dips his head down and presses his mouth against Adachi's. The other man bites back immediately and Johnny squeezes hard in response when teeth catch on his lower lip. Adachi makes a noise and Johnny's hands slacken. There's an apology on the tip of his tongue, but he swallows it down and chooses to nip back at Adachi instead.

He presses himself against Adachi, jutting one knee in between his legs. The fingers on his hips dig in tighter and the back-and-forth biting becomes more intense, even as he increases the pressure on Adachi's throat. He's careful to keep his fangs away, at least; those are for later. There's a growing pressure in his groin and he doesn't take the time to wonder how that works, exactly, when he's (un)dead and his heart isn't pumping blood through his veins. But he can feel Adachi's arousal easily enough, because there's a bulge pressed against his knee and - well, he guesses he’s doing something right here after all.

The hands are moving up now, gripping the hem of his shirt, tugging insistently up. Johnny breaks the kiss but he doesn’t pull his hands away yet. He’s still not entirely comfortable with baring his skin for Adachi, not with the way he smirks and scratches at the scars (all to piss him off, of course, and _god_ is he good at doing that). But there’s another sharp tug and Johnny gives in, letting his hands leave Adachi’s throat so he can pull the shirt off.

“That’s better,” Adachi wheezes, one hand rubbing at his throat. “I didn’t think you had it in you.” He raises his other hand to wipe the unshed tears from his eyes. “You are just full of surprises.” The hand drops from his eyes and that irritating, lazy smirk crosses his face as he takes in the sight of Johnny’s arms. “Then again, I guess it makes sense for somebody who wanted _that._ ” He punctuates the word with a gesture.

“I didn’t want-” Johnny starts, but the hands on his arm and fingers digging at his scars are enough to cut his words off with a hiss.

“Didn’t you?” Adachi asks as his nails bite down into the skin. “Didn’t you want a mark to carry, to show off to people, to let them know what you’d done? To let them know what kind of man you _are_?” One hand trails up Johnny’s arm and over his collarbone, fingers so light against the skin it feels wrong. The fingers of his other hand continue to dig down, hard enough to draw blood. Johnny jerks his arm away and covers the stinging spots with his own hand, but he can’t bring himself to step back.

“It’s a shame, really,” Adachi sighs, raising his now-free hand to his head in mock exasperation. “Anything I give you tonight won’t last! Now, how are you supposed to parade around with all your pretty new cuts and bruises if they heal up the moment you have a drink? How is anybody supposed to _know_?”

There's a hot surge of anger, still horrifyingly foreign but also familiar, in a sense. It's like last time; there's that strong, sudden urge to _bite,_ to sink his fangs down into Adachi's neck and feel him writhe underneath him. But unlike last time, he _does_ have the fangs now. And it would be so, so easy to -

He shoves the thoughts away as forcefully as he can, choosing instead to smash his mouth against Adachi's in a furious, desperate kiss. His hands are gripping the other man's shoulders hard, and the feeling of hands on his own arms barely register. He forces his grip to slacken and then his hands are at Adachi's chest, fingers working at the buttons of his jacket.

The jacket comes off and the shirt is next, and both of them get tossed unceremoniously to the side. He'd left little bruises along Adachi's collar last time, but they've long since faded by now. He's almost eager to replace them. Before he can move in, there's a hand on the back of his head, fingers twisting through his hair. “Those bruises you left me didn't last very long at all, you know,” Adachi says, and there's that stupid, infuriating little sigh he does, one filled with disappointment.

Johnny worries at a corner of his bottom lip as his head gets yanked back and Adachi is on him, teeth raking over his clavicle. Johnny lets his weight fall forward, pushing Adachi back against the wall again. “So let me try again,” Johnny says as his chin drops so he can look at other man in the eye. There's a look in them he can't quite place - anticipation? glee?

Adachi allows Johnny (and god isn't that strange) to rake his own teeth across his collar, to suck and nip at the skin until he can see the bruises starting to blossom. He focuses on one spot just on Adachi's shoulder as hands drop to his waist, fingers digging in, pulling him in closer, closer. Adachi's starting to move against his leg now, and Johnny wonders if it's a conscious decision or not. Either way, that'll need taking care of.

Johnny drops down slowly, his hands sliding down Adachi's sides as he crouches, skin tingling with nerves. There's no sound from above as Johnny works at Adachi's belt, and neither encouragement nor discouragement as he starts to work the man's pants down. His fingers hook in and pull his boxers down with it until it's all falling down to pool around his ankles.

“Well,” is all Adachi says as Johnny slides the head of his cock into his mouth. His tongue drags across the hot skin and the salty taste of precum fills his mouth. They’d had sex last time, sure, but it hadn’t been oral. Adachi has both his hands on Johnny’s head now, fingers twisting in his hair. Johnny takes in as much of him as he can while his own hands slide up Adachi’s thighs to rest on his hips. His eyes flick up as he considers, and there’s something vaguely satisfying about the way Adachi has his head back against the wall, a lazy smirk playing on his face.

He moves his head back slowly, slowly, eyes still fixed (mostly) unwaveringly on Adachi’s face as he lets his teeth close so that his fangs scrape gently across Adachi’s length. The fingers in his hair tighten and tug up sharply. “Careful,” Adachi breathes, but he keeps his head where it is and there’s no noticeable change in expression. Johnny lets out a muffled huff of laughter but he opens his mouth a little until his teeth are gliding across Adachi’s skin with only the lightest touch. That gets a little hum of approval.

He keeps up the slow pace, for what feels like almost a minute. “Don’t move,” Adachi finally says in a stronger voice than earlier, and he’s looking down now, that smirk still present on his face. His hips start thrusting and Johnny tries not to gag as the man fucks himself in his mouth. His fangs are still gently scraping against Adachi with every movement, but if he minds, he doesn’t say anything. It’s getting harder to ignore the pressure building in his own groin and Johnny drops his hands to fumble with his belt.

His head is yanked forward and up forcefully and this time, he does gag. There are tears in his eyes and he blinks them back as he tries to take a breath in around the dick in his mouth (unnecessary, but a habit). “Didn’t you hear me?” Adachi chides, giving Johnny the most mockingly disapproving look he’s seen so far. “I _said_ don’t move.” He loosens his grip on Johnny’s hair and resumes his previous motions. Johnny’s itching to pull back, to argue with him, to take care of himself, _anything_. His hands are trembling as they curl into fists, pressed hard against his knees. A waiting game, then. That’s fine, he can handle this.

He’s far from silent as Adachi facefucks him, and the enjoyment on the man’s face is obvious. It's not long before Adachi tenses up, eyes sliding shut - and Johnny only has time to inwardly groan before Adachi releases himself into his mouth. He swallows it down on instinct and a shudder runs through him because, well, he's never been such a fan of that part. But there's no helping it, not right now.

The tight grip in his hair lets up as Adachi slouches back against the wall, and Johnny wastes no time sliding the dick out of his mouth. He rocks back on his heels and swipes a tongue across his lips, because better that than smearing it on the back of his hand. His own dick is still aching to be touched, but he gets to his feet and fixes Adachi with a look. “Fuck you,” is all he can think of to say, his voice hoarse.

There's a brief pause before Adachi laughs, and it twists at Johnny's gut how pleasant it almost sounds. “Come on, big guy,” Adachi says with a wicked grin. “If you want me to return the favor, all you have to do is ask.”

It's tempting, it's very tempting. He thinks he might enjoy the sight of Adachi on his knees before him, low and vulnerable. But something about it feels wrong, too; maybe it's the shame talking, but Johnny shakes his head and steps back. “Bed,” he says, voice not coming out as firm and decisive as he would have liked.

Adachi's eyebrow quirks, but he doesn't say anything. Johnny leaves him to kick his shoes off and finish undressing to make his way to the bed, fingers working on his own clothes. His hands are still trembling and Adachi's waiting patiently by the time Johnny manages to slip everything off.

“Same as last time?” Adachi asks as Johnny kneels on the bed in front of him. When he gets a nod in reply, he sighs. “And here I was hoping you'd continue to switch it up on me. That's disappointing.”

Johnny hesitates, teeth working at a loose piece of flesh on his lip. Adachi watches him, brows raised, waiting for a reaction. “You, uh.” The words catch in his throat and Johnny clears it. He's pretty sure his face would be burning by now if it had the ability. “You want to switch it up?”

“Not scared, are you?” Adachi flashes him a toothy grin. “Don't tell me you've never been the pitcher before.”

There it is again, that coil of indignant anger that only Adachi seems to be able to dredge up. “Of course I'm not scared,” he retorts. “And I have, I mean, I-I just-” Calm down, take a breath. Don't let him rile you up. “I didn't think you, uh...”

Another infuriating roll of the eyes. “So is that a yes or a no?” Adachi asks. He's already grabbed the bottle of lube from the bedside table and Johnny eyes it as he deliberates.

Well. He does need to get warmed up, after all. “Prep yourself,” Johnny says, and he tries not to let his delight show at the way Adachi looks so taken aback.

“Pardon?”

Johnny holds up a trembling hand. “I don't think you want my fingers in you while they're like this,” he says. As if to punctuate his statement, his fingers twitch - all on their own, of course, he wouldn't need to play it up even if he wanted to. “Sorry.” He's not.

Adachi concedes with another sigh, but he's quick to open the jar and dip his fingers in. Johnny leans over for the drawer, pawing around until he finds the condoms. His mouth is dry as he rolls it on (and it's torture not to ignore what's about to happen and just jerk himself off now, get that over with) and then he waits.

There's already towels sitting on the table, too, and Adachi wipes his fingers off on one before he moves to straddle Johnny's lap. He lowers himself slowly with a grimace, and _god_ does it feel good to finally have this. Johnny leans back, bracing himself with one hand flat on the mattress behind him as Adachi shifts his own weight forward and settles. He doesn’t have enough leverage to move his hips much sitting up like this, but if Adachi minds doing most of the work (which he doubts very much, judging from earlier), he doesn’t say anything. Johnny doesn’t bother to bite back the moan as Adachi starts to move, starting off slow at first and then picking up a faster pace.

Hands circle around his sides, smoothing over the furled wings to reach the spot between them, then nails start dragging up his spine. Johnny shivers under the touch; he's willing Adachi to dig his nails in deeper, to split the flesh under them, but he won't. Not yet. Maybe not ever right now, when there's no guarantee it'll last. Johnny’s free hand drops and wraps firmly around the base of Adachi’s cock.

Adachi brings his face in and Johnny catches his mouth with his own, teeth eager to bite down. Adachi grunts as Johnny breaks the skin, and now there's the taste of blood in his mouth. It's delicious and exhilarating, tasting even this small amount. Johnny swipes his tongue over Adachi's lip and bites down again, hard.

Adachi lets out a muffled “shit” as Johnny pumps him, hand moving at the same rhythm as Adachi’s hips rocking against him, teeth pressing into his lip and coaxing out more blood. The nails scraping over his spine falter and Johnny hesitates, drawing back. Adachi's looking at him with a mixture of humor and intrigue, and there's still blood welling from his cut lip.

“Too much?” Johnny tries to grin, but it's shaky. It's not that he minds hurting the man, exactly, but there's a line - and he's not entirely certain he can keep himself from crossing it. Not if Adachi keeps goading him. He doesn’t seem particularly perturbed about it, either, and that’s as confusing as it is pleasant.

Adachi rolls his hips forward and his nails dig into Johnny's back. “Keep going,” he says in a breathless voice (entirely too satisfying to hear) and Johnny picks the pace back up. When Adachi ducks his head back in, Johnny takes his lower lip into his mouth and sucks right on the wound. The fingers of the hand holding him upright itch to reach up and tangle themselves in Adachi’s hair, but he can’t exactly afford to move it. Adachi's making little noises right into his mouth (not that Johnny's anywhere near quiet, either) and for some reason, that's almost as wonderful as the feeling of being inside him.

He can feel Adachi clench around him as his back arches and, with a last pump of Johnny’s hand, he comes with a delicious moan. Johnny can feel the mess hit his abdomen but he ignores it and keeps moving as Adachi pants into his mouth, because he's not so far off himself.

Adachi grunts as he struggles to keep up the pace. Johnny lets him pull his face back with no resistance, and god is the expression on it beautiful. He looks spent but satisfied, and there's more blood welling up from his lip. Johnny’s whole body tenses and then releases. It's wonderful, an ecstatic high, and there's something more to it this time, some sort of sudden passion that's entirely new. Johnny darts his head forward on instinct and _bites,_ and he just barely registers Adachi's short cry as fangs pierce the man's neck.

Drink. The word courses through his mind again and again, echoed in hundreds of voices, all layered together. Drink. And he does, even as he feels his body shuddering at the end of his orgasm, even as nails dig dangerously deep into his shoulders.

“Johnny.” Adachi's still breathless, and his name is spoken so quietly he might have imagined it. But it comes again, more insistent, and tinged with a sort of desperation he's never before heard from him: “ _Johnny!_ ”

It’s enough to snap him out of it. Johnny pulls his head back with a sharp inhale. His body feels like it's thrumming and he can almost imagine his heart beating wildly with the excitement of it all. His tongue passes over his fangs and he wills them to shorten again. “Sorry,” he says, as Adachi puts a hand over his neck with a wince. “Sorry, let me, um-”

Adachi lifts himself off of Johnny with a groan, one hand still pressed to his neck as the other one reaches for a towel. “Well, at least that was far from boring.” He laughs as he tosses Johnny the other towel. “Maybe you should have eaten beforehand. I'd rather be taken _for_ dinner, not taken _as_ dinner.”

“I didn't, I didn't mean to, I just - sssorry, uh.” The momentary exhilaration has given way to panic and Johnny can't seem to keep himself from stuttering. His hands shake as he cleans himself off, as he ties the condom and tosses it into the nearby trashcan, and as he pushes himself off the bed. “You've, do you have, um, bandages orrrr-”

“Bathroom medicine cabinet,” Adachi replies, cutting Johnny's stammering off smoothly. “But why bother? Don't you want to let this linger?” He flashes Johnny a grin and his stomach twists. How much had he taken? It wasn't for long, but Adachi looks pale, and he's not sure if it's the blood loss or the shock - or maybe both.

He takes a deep breath (steadying, even if his lungs don't need it) and heads for the bathroom instead of answering. This is different, after all, from biting lips, from sucking skin and leaving bruises. All of that's deliberate. This hadn't been. The last time something had overcome him, at least his fangs hadn't actually been there; this time, however…

At least it's easy enough to find and grab the antiseptic and bandages. He pauses to wash his hands first, staring at himself in the mirror (vampire he may be, but his reflection remains) all the while. Johnny grins wide and eyes his fangs critically.

Adachi's lounging against the headrest when he comes back out, one hand still clamped to his neck. Johnny notes with a small ping of alarm that his eyes are closed. “Hey,” he says as he sits on the edge of the bed. Adachi's eyes blink open and he lets out a sigh of relief that, at least, he hadn't fainted. “Let me see your neck.”

Adachi obliges. There's not much blood when he pulls his hands away and Johnny marvels at the mostly clean wounds for a moment. Two small holes, a decent width apart, with the surrounding skin pale and slightly raised. “How's it feel?” he asks, pressing a finger lightly to Adachi's neck. He's never bitten somebody before; last time he'd been magically turned into a vampire for a while, he'd survived mostly off of blood packets.

“Sore,” Adachi replies with a wince. “Like something bit me. I wonder why that is?”

He only just manages to hold in another apology. Johnny's teeth worry at his lip again as he pours some of the antiseptic on a cotton swab. Adachi lets out a short hiss of pain as Johnny runs it over his neck two, three, four times. “How’re you feeling?” Johnny asks as he fixes the bandage over the spot. “Dizzy?”

There's a pause before Adachi replies, “Tired. And I suppose that may or may not be coincidence.”

Johnny runs his fingers lightly over the bandage before he pulls back again. “Gonna need to, well, replace. That. Cookies and juice, or something.” He's never given blood, but he's fairly certain that's what they do after. Right? Probably. Close enough. “You got any of that?”

He's not sure why it's alarming when Adachi laughs, but it is. “You really are a bleeding heart, aren't you?” His eyes slip closed again, but that smirk remains. “You know, I bet you'd curry a lot of favor if you took enough to kill me off. It might even be enough for them to forgive the way you've snuck behind everyone's backs to keep seeing me.”

It hurts to hear, but Johnny can't deny people would be more than disappointed to learn what he's been doing. “I’m not really, uh, a fan of, of the whole. Killing people thing. Eeespecially when I didn’t _mean_ to.” He’s off the bed in a moment. He pulls his pants back on (and his hands are relatively steady, for the moment) and throws a glance to Adachi over his shoulder. His eyes are closed again, but it’s obvious he’s still awake. “I’ll grab you something, alright?

Adachi doesn’t reply, but Johnny takes it as a go-ahead anyway. He’s going to have to stop this eventually, he knows. It’s already dangerously close to becoming a habit. He’d almost forgotten how easily Adachi could draw him in, and that was when it was just words exchanged across media; it’s different now that Johnny can see him in person. His tongue probes at one of his fangs as he heads to the kitchen to poke around. He’ll check in tomorrow, of course, because he’s got a _responsibility_ for this. But after that… Well. With luck, that’ll be the end of this.

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Consider leaving a comment letting me know your thoughts; I'd love to read them!


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